


Death isn't always the end

by LillaJoba



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Post-Season/Series 12, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 07:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillaJoba/pseuds/LillaJoba
Summary: Claire goes to see Sam and Dean for help with a case, unaware of what happened to Cas.





	Death isn't always the end

The bunker was quiet and the lights were mostly out. It would be impossible for anyone to tell from a picture whether it was night or day, and truth be told, Sam and Dean were starting to have the same problem. Neither have slept well over those past couple of weeks. Both staying up all night, living off of coffee and beer, doing anything to avoid shutting their eyes, but Dean slightly more so. Despite what he told Sam, he was rarely as okay as he claimed. They spent their days and nights researching. Both stating it was for the nephilim, about finding where he was, but barely any of that was true. Yes, Sam did start looking into it for a while, but then joined Dean in opening any random book, in hopes of finding out anything about where angels go when they die, or alternate universes. They were in one of their quiet waking trances when there was a knock on the door of the bunker, bringing them back to reality like a shock wave. Both of them stood up and automatically reached for their guns, not thinking about how if it was a monster, it would hardly have the audacity to knock. Sam and Dean approached the staircase, aiming the weapons at the door. Sam was leading the way and, with a quick glance and nod to his brother, he called out.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me you dumbasses. Can I come in?”

Sam lowered his gun followed by Dean. Of course they recognised that voice, although neither of them understood why she was there, considering she made such a big deal about hunting on her own.

Claire Novak was another one of the Winchesters’ unlikely allies and, like most people they met, it was never the smoothest of rides to begin with. But either way, they have somehow worked things through. She was sitting at the table with Dean as Sam returned from the kitchen, holding 2 bottles of beer and a glass of water. He handed the glass to Claire who slightly rolled her eyes, but accepted it, before sitting down and handing one of the bottles to Dean.

“So, Claire” said Sam trying to start conversation “how have you been?”

Claire looked between him and Dean, understanding the actual question. She seemed to have gotten into the Winchester habit of wearing plaid, too. She moved her hair behind her ear, revealing a cut, slightly hidden by her shirt, at the bottom of her neck. Dean frowned at it, but Sam didn’t seem to notice.

“I was hunting and…” she paused. She never was one to ask for help. “I thought maybe you’d like to join me.”

She stared at her glass as she asked the last part of her question. Sam gave a small laugh, while Dean just looked serious.

“So,” Dean finally asked, still looking at the cut “what are you hunting?”

Claire reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out print offs of a few police reports.

“3 different people, skin and meat removed.” She explained as Sam and Dean began looking through the reports. “Totally disgusting. They also found teeth marks on the bones, so I’m thinking it’s a monster.”

“Yeah, well it does seem like it is.” Sam commented, still shuffling through the pages. He looked over at Dean. “Wendigo?”

Dean was still concentrating on Claire, who started to look confused and uncomfortable.

“What is it?”

Dean pointed at her neck. Sam turned to look and once he noticed it, he began looking inquisitive as well. Claire twisted her head, wincing slightly, then turned back to them.

“What? Hunting causes injuries, I cut it on some barbed wire while hunting a ghost.”

Sam widened his eyes, while Dean kept the mostly neutral, but somewhat concerned and interrogatory expression.

“You hunted a ghost?” Sam asked, slightly disbelievingly. Claire tilted her head, giving a somewhat exasperated look.

“I was hunting.”

Sam shrugged and Dean took a swig from his beer. Claire started looking around the bunker. After a few moments silence, and some obvious hesitation, she broke it.

“By the way, where’s Castiel?” At these words, both brothers looked up from the pages. “I haven’t seen him in a few years.”

Sam looked down again and Dean took a deep breath and took another drink. Claire was looking between the two of them, confused. Without looking at her, Sam slowly started to try and explain.

“Claire, there was…He…er”

Claire’s face dropped and she stared down at desk for a second, but quickly cleared her throat and recovered.

“Oh, well. That’s too bad.” She was trying to sound casual, but her voice shook slightly.

Sam looked at her as she was absent mindedly drawing patterns with her fingers.

“Claire?” He asked tentatively, with Dean now, once again, immersed in the research, keen to stay out of the conversation. Claire looked up, seemingly composed. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She said, standing up. “I mean, he was nothing to me after all, was he? He…He was just the one took a lot away from me. Now, I’m turning 21 in a few months, I think that’s close enough, so you won’t stop keep getting a drink, yeah? Great.”

She walked away, down to the kitchen, Sam and Dean following her with their eyes, neither of them making an effort to stop her.

Claire entered the kitchen and went over to the fridge. She was still keeping an overly calm composure about herself, a completely emotionless expression, though she seemed like she was trying way too hard. She took out a bottle of beer and placed it on the counter, but didn’t let go, just stood there. She didn’t notice someone coming in behind her, until he placed his hand on her shoulder, at which point, she spun around, knocking the bottle onto the floor, where it smashed, and instinctively went for a punch, but Sam caught her hand.

“Don’t do that.” She sighed lowering her hand.

“Sorry.” He looked at her, as she began scooping some of the broken glass into her hands, keeping quiet until she stood back up. “Are you okay?”

“You just asked me that.” She wasn’t looking at him.

Sam looked at her sympathetically, and when she looked up, she noticed.

“Don’t look at me like that!” She snapped. “I’m okay.”

Sam gave a small sad smile, but continued looking at her.

“You remind me a lot of Dean. He also seems to think ignoring it will make it go away.”

“I am not ignoring anything. But why would I care?” She said, now visibly upset, but still insistant to hide it. “He took my life, my family, he took everything from me, why would I care? Why would you think I cared?”

After she was done neither of them said anything for a second, but Sam hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“You asked how he was. That seemed like you cared.” She didn’t respond, so Sam sighed and continued. “Look, I understand that you want to hate him, but…I don’t think you can help something like that. I mean, we had a tough time originally, too. He was a bit of a dick when we first met him.”

Claire gave a small huff. “Only a little?”

Sam smiled. “But, the truth is, he may have done a lot of bad things, but he’s also done a lot of good. And he’s always tried to do the best and…We can’t help it. He was family. You can’t help who you love and I know in a weird way, he meant something to you.”

Claire was still looking at the floor, but she had loosened the stubborn look on her face.

“I should hate him.” She eventually said. “But he has done so hard to try and makeup for it. Even though he can’t. I just…I don’t hate him anymore.” She looked up at Sam. “Do you miss him?”

Sam seemed to have been only mildly aware of what was going on, as he snapped his head up to respond.

“Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah we do.”

Claire looked away.

“Do you remember what you told me once? When I was searching for my mum?” She turned back to him, meeting his eyes. “You told me death doesn’t always mean goodbye.”

They maintained eye contact, as Sam smiled. At that point, Dean entered the kitchen.

“Well?” He said, grabbing another beer. “Are we going hunting?”

It only took another couple of hours to hunt down the monster they were hunting. It did end up being another a Wendigo. Claire parted ways with them when they got back to the bunker, and they went back to the table. They sat down, and Dean went straight into the books, but Sam was just left looking at them.

“What?” Dean grumbled, when he noticed Sam staring at him.

Sam sighed. “Look, man, you need to stop this.”

“Stop what?” He asked, not looking up from the book.

“This. This emotionless, unaccepting act.” Dean finally looked up. “Look, we’ll never drop trying to get them back, but not understanding or comprehending what happened it…It won’t help.”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds and the slowly closed the book.

“Yeah, you can talk.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean.”

“I’ve seen you. Praying in your room, to god knows who anymore. And yet, when you come down, you act like a therapist to me.”

Sam looked at his brother and realised he was not wrong.

“You’re right. We both need to talk about it more. And I can honestly say…that night…It was probably the worst loss we’ve ever had. We’ve lost friends and family before but, that was different. I still barely knew mum, I don’t even know if she’s alive in that other world, or how we could save her, and I don’t have any idea what to do about Cas either.” Dean was paying attention, but not responding. “But we will get them back. We will, and I know you’ll never give up either. But right now, I’m going to bed.”

He stands up and leaves the room, leaving Dean to look after him.


End file.
